


The Wrong Size

by Tay (erentitanjaeger)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bokuaka - Freeform, M/M, smut in second chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 05:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3598464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erentitanjaeger/pseuds/Tay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto had never been a fan of the bedhead look (just ask Kuroo) but he was rethinking his entire way of life right now and all because the new guy working at the convenience store (he knew he was new because he came here often and it was almost always either the big, burly man with the Russian accent or the blonde chick who spent more time reading magazines and popping gum than her job), was, for lack of a better word, a complete hotty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to write more of the tumblr prompts i found _(:3 」∠)_

“Don’t forget the pandas this time!”

The deep voice echoed from somewhere behind him in the carpark, Bokuto giving a half-assed wave in acknowledgement as he crossed the wide expanse of pavement.  He sighed heavily.

“You forget one time and you never hear the end of it!  I went back in the morning!” Bokuto muttered to himself, hearing the whir of the automatic doors as he entered the convenience store.  “It’s not like he ever finishes the packet anyway!  Half of them end up all over the couch when he falls asleep.  The chocolate melted into the upholstery last time…”

He was still cussing under his breath as he rounded the corner into the candy aisle, hell bent on getting what he needed and getting out.  It had been a rough night for both Kuroo and Bokuto; all study and no play made them both very cranky and upset with life in general.  Kuroo had thrown his pencil down in exasperation around the eighth hour mark, claiming if he tried to solve another physics equation without sugar in his system he would undo the laws of the universe just so he wouldn’t have to take his stupid exam. 

Bokuto took that as a sign to grab his keys and drag him out of their shared apartment so they could get to the store, when in all seriousness he had been waiting for Kuroo to crack for over an hour just so he would have an excuse to leave.  He had refused to be the one to crack first.

The store was quiet around him as he headed for the distinctive red packaging he saw at the end, muttering a list of every other sugared gem he wanted in his mouth as he went.

“Pocky.  Raspberry hi-chews.  Meiji chocolate.  Rice crackers.  That man right there…”

Bokuto stopped dead as someone entered the aisle from the other end, carrying boxes of something and wearing the horrid green apron that could only belong to someone who worked here.  Suffice to say, it wasn’t the apron Bokuto noticed first.

It could be his eyes; tired looking, almost, but not in a way that didn’t work for the man.  Deep and dark and gray but probably so expressive if the right subject was brought up.  It could be his shoulders; wide and broad and strong from some kind of sport or other physical, manual labour.  It might’ve been his lips.  Thin and set, his expression furrowed as he concentrated on stacking the appropriate candy into the appropriate sections.  What about his hair?  Dark and curly and a complete mess.  Bokuto had never been a fan of the bedhead look (just ask Kuroo) but he was rethinking his entire way of life right now and all because the new guy working at the convenience store (he knew he was new because he came here often and it was almost always either the big, burly man with the Russian accent or the blonde chick who spent more time reading magazines and popping gum than her job), was, for lack of a better word, a complete _hotty_.

“Can I help you?”

 The man had caught him staring.  His dark eyebrows furrowed over his gray eyes, looking him up and down, raising an eyebrow (probably out of concern) as Bokuto stood there, mouth agape, saying nothing.

Bokuto tried to speak.  Tried to formulate words into some sort of language that _might_ sound like Japanese.  But alas, all that came out was a squeak, a high pitched one, that betrayed his usual rough voice he took pride in having, despite never having smoked a day in his life.

“Huh?” the man was standing now, wiping his hands on his apron, leaning on one foot, cocking a hip and giving Bokuto a positively bewildered look now.

Bokuto did the only sensible thing he could think of; he turned around and exited the aisle in the opposite direction.  He could practically here the convenience store worker’s sigh of resentment as Bokuto rounded the corner into the part of the store that housed all the medical supplies.

Taking a deep breath, Bokuto tried to clear his head, tried to remember everything he had ever done to get someone interested in him before.  But all he could come up with was that time when he was four and liked this guy in the sand box so much he had offered to share his bug collection with him.  It didn’t go too well.

He heard a rustle of activity and a scrape of boxes.  Peering through the mesh that made up the aisle shelves, he saw the worker retreating back behind the counter, bringing out a pen and calculator.  The pen went behind his ear, his face screwed up in concentration while he worked, probably doing his own homework while the lull in the store lasted.

“God, that’s cute,” Bokuto muttered. 

Taking a deep breath, Bokuto resited what he wanted to say, how he wanted to convey his sudden and very apparent strong feelings for this man, thinking it over in his head, making sure it didn’t sound too creepy or too desperate.  That it didn’t make him sound drunk or high (it was one in the morning after all).  That it basically had a levelled balance between ‘hey, you’re really effing cute and I want to take you on a date so you’ll fall in love with me and we can get married and have a lot of pretty owl babies’ and ‘damn, son, did it hurt? When you fell from Heaven I mean?  With a face like that you gotta be an angel and I would be more than happy to be shot by your cupid’s bow’.

When he was sure he had the words down right, he quickly felt behind him and grabbed whatever his hand hit first.  They felt like a few boxes of band-aids.  Good enough.

Approaching the counter, Bokuto placed the items under the wire guard first, letting the man look up from whatever he was working on (looked like maths to Bokuto but it could be geometry or physics or algebra as Kuroo insisted that, yes, there was a difference).  The man’s eyes widened slightly as he noticed Bokuto’s items, but shifted back to a neutral expression as he began to ring them up.

“Busy night ahead of you?” he asked, nonchalantly, touching icons on the computer beside him.

Bokuto nodded again, watching those fingers move, hypnotised by how graceful they were simply from pressing a few touch-screen buttons.

“That’ll be two thousand and fifty yen, please.”

_God, he even speaks like an angel._

Bokuto took out the cash he needed, going to hand it over and was just about to open his mouth when, out of nowhere, soft, nimble, pale, long and the most beautiful fingers Bokuto had ever laid his eyes on, brushed his.  His throat constricted and he gasped out air, hacking slightly as he pounded on his chest to clear his airways again.

The man’s hands faltered as he took the money.

“Are you alright, Sir?” Came his sweet, reverent tone again.

Bokuto could only nod.  He had already squeaked unmanly-like and now choked on air in front of the centre of all his affections from now until he died; he didn’t want to risk letting out anymore stupid noises so long as he had this short chance with him.

“Here’s your change.”  The various coins were slid across the counter towards him.  “Your receipt is in the bag.”

Bokuto was careful not to touch the man again as he took the plastic bag from him, not wanting to be set on fire as it were.

“Thank you for coming.”

Bokuto nodded again, hurrying out of the store with his heart hammering in his ribcage and his stomach trying to escape out of his mouth.

He walked in a zombie-like-state back to his car.  Kuroo had the radio blaring and his feet up on the dashboard, probably as a way to spite him for taking so long.  He climbed in, the bag disappearing from his hand as Kuroo yanked it away, in search of his much needed panda supply.

Bokuto could only lean his head against the wheel, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying desperately to come to terms with what had just happened. 

That man had been beyond beautiful.  Gorgeous and lithe, delicate but given the chance, would probably snap Bokuto in half, if only because Bokuto would probably let him.  He closed his eyes, trying to remember his face, his expressions, and his voice.  Anything that would come to mind and keep the warm air stirring within him alive.

“Bro.”

He blinked, turning uncomfortably towards Kuroo’s pissed expression, giving him a quizzical look.

“I love you man.  You know I do.”

Bokuto snorted.

“Yeah, I know.  We’ve ranted about that fact many a drunken night.”

“Alright.” Kuroo’s voice was distant, like he was hedging around his words, trying to find the best way to bring this up.  “So, what the fuck is this?”

He brought out one of the boxes in the bag, holding it up so the light from the store could hit the label through the windscreen.  Bokuto’s heart seemed to stop in his chest, reversed three times before exploding entirely.

“ARRRGH ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?” he screamed, slamming his head onto the wheel, the horn blaring through the night.  He could hear Kuroo’s maniacal laughter somewhere underneath it.

Those weren’t band-aids he had grabbed.  No.  Band-aids would’ve been fine.  Actually, the item he had somehow acquired would’ve been fine, it if weren’t for the X-X-Small labelled on the front, right under the word ‘size’ and right under the word ‘condoms’.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto had, in fact, managed to go back to the store, to flirt his way into a date (that went swimmingly), which led into another date and another date which led them to making out in the back of Bokuto’s car while a subtitled version of Grease was playing on a projector screen outside. That led to even more dates, to Akaashi meeting Bokuto’s friends, to Bokuto meeting Akaashi’s friends, to their friends meeting each other and hanging out regularly.  
> Two months later and here they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i never meant to write smut for this story but oh well _(:3 」∠)_ sorry not sorry

Hands in his hair, lips on his chest, a heaving body on top of his own.  Bokuto could only sigh in content as a hot mouth nipped at his stomach, making its way down, down, down until long, pale fingers were grasping the hem of his pants.

Bokuto gasped as a tongue flicked over his navel, wavy, dark hairy brushing his hips and making him draw in short breaths.  His fingers tightened in the bedsheets, though he was afraid if he pulled any tighter they’d tear.  And they weren’t his bedsheets.  Tearing would be very bad.  Very embarrassing.

Now all he could think about was tearing bedsheets that weren’t his.  Which was surprising considering the tongue that had previously licked his navel clean was working its way back up his chest, over his nipples, past his neck where they attached themselves to the space just under his ear.

“I can hear you thinking, Bokuto-san,” the man on top of him murmured, his soft voice only making Bokuto clench more, shake harder, as he tried very hard not to move.

“Uh, sorry,” he tried to say clearly, probably failing.  He couldn’t quite hear his voice right now.

More kisses.  Wet and languid and lazy.  And hot.  So hot.  But then again, when was Akaashi ever not hot?

Akaashi Keiji.  First year chemistry major, part-time convenience store worker, full-time angel. 

Bokuto had, in fact, managed to go back to the store, to flirt his way into a date (that went swimmingly), which led into another date and another date which led them to making out in the back of Bokuto’s car while a subtitled version of Grease was playing on a projector screen outside.  That led to even more dates, to Akaashi meeting Bokuto’s friends, to Bokuto meeting Akaashi’s friends, to their friends meeting each other and hanging out regularly. 

Two months later and here they were.

It’s not like they hadn’t gotten hot and heavy before.  They liked kissing each other, a lot.  Akaashi liked surprising Bokuto with sweet kisses when he came out of class or out of the shower or when he was coming around any corner basically.  Bokuto liked easing into it, kissing Akaashi’s neck while he was working or reading, letting Akaashi finish his problem or paragraph before turning around and falling into Bokuto’s arms.

It’s just that they had kept their clothes vastly _on_ while being intimate with each other before.  Akaashi was good at laying down boundaries, and Bokuto was good at staying behind them until Akaashi was ready to take them down.  Bokuto had asked why Akaashi was so careful with him, to which his boyfriend (then of three weeks) replied that if it was anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have cared so much, but with Bokuto, he admitted to liking him too much to be so careless.

Akaashi earned himself a lot of sloppy kisses on his neck after that confession.

They were crappily in love with each other.  Well, Bokuto wanted to think it was love, but knew it was still too early to be assuming such things.  Still, with Akaashi currently sticking his tongue in his ear, it was hard to think too deeply about his emotional feelings for the man.  Besides, Akaashi liked it when he was actually _present_ during these times together.

Bokuto let out a desperate whimper as Akaashi’s hips came down to meet his, grinding theirs together.  A thousand flashes of different fantasies flashed through Bokuto’s mind.  Of Akaashi naked underneath him, of Akaashi gripping his shoulders and scratching his back as he rammed into him again and again.  Fantasies of them spending Saturday mornings in the shower together, completely content to use up all the hot water if it meant they didn’t have to separate.

So many visions and euphoric moments he had spent lying on his bed, hands around himself as he tried to imagine what Akaashi’s face would look like when lost in pleasure; _real_ pleasure.  Finally, he would get to see it.

Akaashi let out a steady whine against his neck, grinding down again.  Bokuto gasped, not because of the friction it was causing against his steadily hardening cock (though that was definitely helping), but because he could feel it.  Akaashi’s own hard-on, growing fast inside his jeans.  Because of _him._   Bokuto wanted to cry in celebration.  Though knew that wold be totally uncool, so refrained.  Barely.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi gasped, his forehead buried in the crook of Bokuto’s neck, small cries leaving his lips as he rocked their hips together.  Bokuto growled, reaching down to grab Akaashi’s ass, palming the jean fabric, pulling their hips together harder and relishing in Akaashi’s small spasms that he could feel all too well against his palms.

“God, Akaashi,” Bokuto heard himself saying, moaning loudly more like. 

Then Akaashi was sitting up, adjusting himself so he was sitting on Bokuto’s thighs, unbuckling the man’s studded belt and popping open the button, drawing down the zipper so it actually _dragged_ against his length.  Bokuto hissed. 

He knew his length was already hard and leaking, straining against his briefs, wanting some much desired attention before Akaashi did anything else.  Pale fingers, beautiful and long ones that Bokuto had cherished longingly and often, were pulling his pants down over his hips. 

Bokuto felt Akaashi tense on his legs, his gray eyes going wide as he stared at Bokuto’s crotch.

Bokuto flushed.  Shit.  Did he accidentally wear those horrible, bright pink briefs Kuroo bought him as a joke.  He didn’t, did he?

He glanced down, noting the black and white checkers he remembered picking out this morning, slightly immature but not quite as embarrassing as it could’ve been. 

“You lied,” Akaashi was saying, his voice flat, eyes still routed to the bulge in Bokuto’s underpants.

“I did?”

A strangled cry left his mouth as Akaashi’s entire hand cupped his hard-on, palming it heavily, lithe fingers feeling up the entire length and playing with the tip, all through the fabric of his underpants.

“ _This,”_ Akaashi squeezed for emphasis, Bokuto hiccupping over his gasps, “is certainly not ‘x-x-small’.”

Bokuto felt his entire face turn red at the memory of their first encounter, remembered how horrified he had been and trying to calculate if he even had a shot in hell with someone as beautiful as Akaashi after such an ordeal. 

He remembered how surprised he had been when Akaashi had agreed to go out with him.  After only twenty minutes of light conversation and painfully obvious flirting.  Actually overjoyed; though displayed it outside and far away from the object of his desires.

“I…uhm…can explain?” Bokuto stammered, trying to keep his head on straight while an angel was sitting on his legs, playing with his cock, a pink tongue tracing thin lips, dark eyes filled with desire.  _For him._

Yeah, okay, head on straight. Not.

Then Akaashi was attacking his lips, shoving his tongue inside Bokuto’s mouth and positively _moaning, gyrating_ on top of him.  Bokuto could barely breathe between the brilliant, circular motions of Akaashi’s hips and the languid strokes of his tongue.  His head was spinning and his arms felt like they were either going to break off or break Akaashi, with how tight he was holding him.

Akaashi made quick work of his own jeans, standing up to get them off and threw them to a very distant corner of the room.  Bokuto shoved his own jeans and underwear the rest of the way over his ankles, shucking them to the end of the bed, opening his arms as Akaashi crouched back on top of him, wrapping his arms around Bokuto’s neck and beginning his fantastic lap dance all over again. 

Bokuto was biting into Akaashi’s skin, holding his hips, helping to guide them as he thrust up as best he could, given their positions.  No matter what angle they tried, no matter how much Bokuto was tipping over the edge, he made sure he held fast to his boyfriend.  Kissing him deeply, rocking slowly, turning his knuckles white as he gripped pale, smooth thighs in some kind of attempt to hold onto his sanity.

“Bokuto-san,” he heard Akaashi whimpering against his shoulder.  “You feel so good.”

Bokuto moved a hand to grip the hair at the nape of Akaashi’s neck, tilting his head back so he could slide their lips together, letting him moan into their kiss.

“You feel fucking fantastic, Akaashi.  Shit,” Bokuto cussed.  He always did during intimate moments like these.  Akaashi had mentioned he didn’t mind, but it didn’t stop Bokuto from trying to get it at least a little bit under control.  “Oh fuck.  Fuck!  Akaashi!”

Though control fell out of his head the moment Akaashi shifted his hips just right, their cocks rubbing together in the most delicious angle, both of their harsh panting filling the small space left between them as they rocked into it together. 

It was a hot blur, a scorching tornado of fire and limbs and spastic cries of pleasure.  Bokuto gave Akaashi one, impressive love bite.  Akaashi grabbed both their cocks and stroked them haphazardly.  One last fiery kiss and they were falling over the edge together, crying each other’s names and gripping onto each other as hard as they were able. 

It took Bokuto a moment to open his eyes, to remember where he really was and come back to reality.  He loosened his grip on Akaashi’s hips only slightly, only to have arms tighten their own hold on Bokuto, a voice whimpering into his ear and a body shaking in his grip.

“Not yet,” he whispered, longing and desire and adoration filling his voice.  “Don’t let go yet.”  Bokuto was happy to comply.

Later, they were both clean, underwear back on, Akaashi’s shirt switched for something more comfortable, Bokuto’s discarded completely, their breathing evened and their limbs tangled together under soft sheets in a much lazier and less frantic manner than before.  Akaashi was peppering Bokuto’s shoulders with light kisses, Bokuto’s fingers under the hem of Akaashi’s shirt, tracing sweet patterns into his smooth skin.

“Okay,” Akaashi sat up on his elbow, eyeing Bokuto suspiciously.  “Explain.”

Bokuto had to explain his entire story; that he had been too embarrassed to talk to Akaashi in the first place, so settled for just some _reason_ to talk to him at all, meaning he went to buy the first thing his fingers touched in an attempt to get closer to the new guy working at the convenience store.  Regrettably, that had been the wrong sized condoms.  Two packets of them.  Which not only led (a very disappointed) Akaashi to believe the cute guy with the crazy hair had a girlfriend, but that he was also lacking in certain important parts of anatomy.

Akaashi was in a fit of giggles by the end, curling into Bokuto’s chest as his shoulders shook.

“Yes.  Okay.  Let’s all laugh at the guy with big-ass crush that rendered him catatonic for a good week and a half!” Bokuto only laid his head on the pillow, closing his eyes as he listened to Akaashi’s soft laugh begin to fade, not really minding the sound all that much.

“I-I’m sorry, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi managed to say, not seeming sorry at all. 

Bokuto hummed in response, letting his fingers wander under Akaashi’s shirt again, splayed out on his hip bone as he continued to calm down.

“For the record,” Akaashi started, hands on Bokuto’s chest, resting over his heart, head on the space right next to Bokuto’s.  “I honestly wouldn’t have cared if you did have a small dick, but it’s nice to know you don’t nonetheless.”

Bokuto could only crack a grin, kissing Akaashi one last time before they both fell into a well-deserved and deep sleep together.


End file.
